


Leather And Lace

by draco_somnians



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cliche, Explicit Language, F/M, First Time, Graphic Sex, Leather Kink, Motorcycles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-16
Updated: 2010-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draco_somnians/pseuds/draco_somnians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Jack take a ride. Birthday fic for wanderingsmith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather And Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wanderingsmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/gifts).



Sam had always prided herself on being efficient, organised, and neat to the point of finicky, especially at work; which was why she’d left packing up her lab until the day before her leave started. She thought it would only take a few hours and then she would be free to start her two week break before heading out to Nevada. She hadn’t counted on numerous interruptions from base personnel coming to say their goodbyes, offering her their best wishes, and she’d been quite touched when Bill Lee had brought her the biggest box of chocolates she’d ever seen as a goodbye gift from him and the rest of his science team. Now it was late on Friday afternoon and she still hadn’t finished.

She placed her hands on her hips, sighed, and surveyed her lab once again. Her eyes landed on the box at the edge of her desk, her neat handwriting labelling the box with the only description she’d been able to come up with: “SG1’s leftover crap”. She’d found a few of Daniel’s textbooks, a random coffee mug (thankfully clean) that wasn’t hers, almost a dozen of Teal’c’s magazines filed neatly in one of her drawers, along with a few National Geographic’s, and no less than _four_ Yo-yo’s. She was almost positive neither Daniel nor Teal’c had left any of it in here. She smiled fondly. Maybe she should’ve labelled it “Jack’s leftover crap”.

Her phone rang and she reached over, snatching it up to her ear, “Carter.”

“Hey!” Jack’s voice said down the phone, his voice taking on the cheerful, playful tone she’d been hearing for the past few weeks, “Watcha up to?”

“Packing. What are you up to?”

“Packing.” He answered sincerely, but she knew he was grinning on his end of the phone. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of crap I’ve got in this house.”

She picked one of the Yo-Yo’s out of the box, smiling as she turned it over in her hand, “Oh I can believe it,” she replied.

“I’m gonna have to toss a ton of it out, which is actually why I called.” He paused and she waited, fully expecting him to coerce her into helping him pack. “Do you want my bike?” he asked and her mind immediately flashed to the bicycle she’d seen propped against his back deck a few times.

“Your mountain bike?” she asked.

“No, my motorcycle. I can’t really take it to DC with me...”

She cut him off abruptly, “Your _what?_” Her heart rate had inexplicably quickened and her fingers gripped the phone a little tighter. “Since when do you have a motorcycle?”

He sounded confused. “Since always. How do you not know that?”

Her head was spinning and she felt like she might have to sit down as the image of Jack in leather shot through her head. Sure she’d seen him in his leather jacket, but the thought of him clad head to toe in leather, straddling a motorcycle, was doing things to her that she’d never admit to anyone. She heard his voice down the phone, trying to get her attention.

“Carter? You still there?”

She licked her dry lips, “Yeah,” she answered, clearing her throat when she heard the strangled sound of her voice. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

“So do you want it?”

She closed her eyes against the onslaught of images that ran through her head and took a deep breath.

“You can take it for a ride first if you want.”

_Was he doing that on purpose?_ She tried to steady her breathing and drag her mind out of the gutter. “Yeah ok. When?”

“You busy tomorrow?” he asked.

Tomorrow: Saturday, definitely no plans. No plans that couldn’t be put on hold for this anyway. She grinned. “Nope. I’m free all day.”

“So...how about you come over, bring your bike and we’ll go out together?”

Go out together. She suddenly had a vivid image of riding pillion behind him, her arms gripping tightly around his waist, the wind rushing past her as they sped along a deserted highway.

“Sure.” The casual tone of her voice belied the excitement building in her chest. She felt like a teenager being asked out on her first date and inwardly rolled her eyes at how pathetic she was being.

“Excellent. See you tomorrow!”

 

***

 

He heard the hum of her motorcycle from far off down the street, grinning to himself as the sound became louder and then was replaced with a softer sound as she downshifted through the gears and crunched across his gravel driveway. He pulled himself off the floor and away from his messy CD collection, half of which were packed in a box, the other half he’d kept to one side and were either missing CD’s, missing inserts or had the discs in the wrong cases. He’d have to keep her away from those if they were going to get out of the house today; one little sniff of his disorganised CD collection would have her sorting and alphabetising in no time.

He reached the front door just before she knocked and pulled it open with a flourish, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her in tight leather pants, a fitted leather jacket, her helmet cradled under her arm, her hair tousled and her cheeks a little flushed.

“You’re not even dressed!” she admonished as her eyes quickly scanned over his ragged old jeans and his worn-out t-shirt. He was still frozen to the spot, his eyes darting wildly from place to place on her body and he was thankful he’d opted for jeans and a fairly long t-shirt this morning instead of his usual Saturday morning attire of sweatpants and not much else. At least the jeans were hiding the effect all of that leather was having on the lower half of his body.

She stepped into his house, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and gently pushing him towards his room. “Go,” she urged, “Get changed. I’ve been riding for half an hour already and I really want to get back out there.”

He half wanted to tell her talking like that wasn’t helping, but instead he grinned at her, finally shaking himself back to his senses and slowly meandering down his hallway.

When he finally reached his room he dragged his leathers out of his closet and stripped off down to his underwear. He dressed as quickly as he could, glad that there was no-one around to see him try and zip up his leather pants around an eager erection, and almost fall on his ass twice in the process.

Finally satisfied he was ready; he grabbed his gloves and made his way back to the living room.

 

***

 

Sam sat on the floor of Jack’s living room while she waited, sorting through his completely unorganised CD’s, huffing loudly each time she found one in the wrong box. How could anybody be so careless about CD storage? How did he ever find anything in this mess? She heard his footsteps down the hall, the sound of heavy boots on wood, but she didn’t turn around just yet; she had three empty cases in her hands and she’d actually found their CD’s amid the chaos.

“Carter!” she heard him groan from behind her, “I was hoping to keep you away from those!”

She spun around, about to explain to him just what was wrong with his CD filing “system”, but when she took in the sight of him, clad head to toe in delicious black leather, the words wouldn’t form. A little startled at just how close her fantasy image of him like this had been to the reality, her mouth worked silently and her eyes slowly crept up and down his body.

“You ready to go?” he asked, a smile quirking his lips and she stood up quickly.

“Sure,” she squeaked and cleared her throat with a frown.

He led her out to his garage, swung the door up over his head and her eyes immediately found the immaculate bike proudly dominating the floor space. She grinned, walked up to it and ran her fingers across the perfectly polished paint work.

“I knew it,” she whispered.

“What?” he asked. She looked right at him, trying not to smirk as much as she felt like.

“I knew it would be a Harley,” she laughed. He had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

“Am I that predictable?” he asked, smiling himself, obviously proud of his toy even if she was laughing at him.

She stepped around the bike, wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his arms wrap tightly around her waist, pulling her close so that their lips were almost touching.

“Yes, I’m afraid you are,” she said quietly and then kissed him, slowly winding her tongue into his mouth and twisting it around his. He moaned into her mouth, his hands skimming her leather clad buttocks and he pulled away, a little reluctantly, resting his forehead on hers.

“We should go now,” he said, his voice gravelly, “Before I drag you back in there.”

She grinned wickedly at him, kissed him swiftly on the mouth and bit his bottom lip gently between her teeth. He groaned again and closed his eyes, more than willing to forego the bike ride, but she stepped away from him and pulled her helmet over her head. He was left staring after her as she walked back out onto his driveway and swung her leg over the Indian, striking it up with a flourish and revving the engine.

He sighed, pulled on his own helmet and clambered onto his bike. He hadn’t ridden it in months and hadn’t ridden it much at all in the last year. As it roared into life, he felt the familiar build up of excitement that he’d had ever since he’d first climbed onto his best friend’s dirt bike at fifteen, and realised just how much he’d missed this.

 

***

 

They rode steadily for almost two hours, right out of town and through the quiet surrounding rural areas, breaking the peace and quiet with the sound of two thundering engines. He followed Sam into a rest stop and was actually quite relieved for the break; his back and legs were aching, but it felt good. Good to be out on the road with the wind whipping past and a powerful engine underneath him. He shut off the bike, stepped off it and stretched out his back, then pulled his helmet off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Ok?” she asked, grinning at him.

“Yep,” he smiled back, aware that they were both living up to that tired cliché of Air Force officers being helpless adrenaline junkies, but not caring one bit.

They grabbed water, gas, and rested for a while, falling into the banter that had become surprisingly easy over the last few weeks. He didn’t dare to hope that this would last forever, but things were progressing nicely since they’d had The Talk and decided going their separate ways career-wise would let them finally pursue this. They seemed to be... “dating”, which was one thing he’d never imagined actually doing with Carter, but here they were. If he was counting right, this was their fifth date.

“Ready to switch?” she asked, her eyes running over his bike. Did she just lick her lips?

“You’re gonna let me loose on the Indian?” he asked with a smirk. Hesitantly, she nodded.

“Sure,” she replied, “I trust you. Just be careful ok?”

He laughed, “Ok.”

 

***

 

It had been a long time since Sam had been on a bike this big, and adjusting to the extra power took a while. Jack however seemed to have no problem with the switch as he sped along the highway beside her, and she managed to only wince once when he took her precious Indian a little too close to a car for her liking.

She forced herself to relax; to try and ignore what Jack was doing and just focus on the machine she was supposed to be test driving. She opened the throttle a little more, impressed with the surge of power and speed, feeling her whole body tingle with the vibrations coursing through the bike. The sound was almost deafening compared to her Indian, so much so that she could feel the deep throb of the engine in her chest.

When they finally reached Jack’s place, she was almost sad for their ride to be coming to an end. She guided the Harley smoothly into his garage and he parked the Indian right next to it. The sappy side of her, the side that nobody ever saw, briefly marvelled at how _right_ that looked; their motorcycles sitting side by side in his garage. She shook her head; Sam Carter didn’t do “sappy”.

She pulled off her helmet, resting it between her legs, but stayed straddling the bike and ran a gloved hand over the shiny fuel tank.

“So?” Jack asked, now standing with his calves either side of the Harley’s front wheel and leaning over the handlebars. “Like it?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes!” she answered, a little too emphatic maybe, but knowing that pride in ones bike swelled tenfold with a third party’s admiration. The sparkle in his eyes told her she wasn’t wrong and when he leaned over further, she immediately responded, stretching forward to meet his lips in a hungry kiss, carefully balancing herself and trying to flick down the kickstand so that they didn’t topple over.

He pulled back and laughed. “You wanna get off there?” he asked, and the words brought a flush to her cheeks. She stepped off the bike, feeling a delightful pull in her thighs, and made sure it was stable before she let go. When she was sure, she rested her helmet on the vacant seat and found Jack standing only inches away from her.

Her breath quickened and she found herself staring at the expanse of black leather across his chest before her eyes lifted, and found his. All of a sudden his lips were on hers, his tongue seeking and gaining entrance to her mouth. She responded in kind, her fingers digging into his leather-clad biceps, her tongue and teeth devouring his mouth. It was the most intense kiss they’d shared yet, hands roaming, breath coming thick and fast as they stole each other’s oxygen. One of his hands clamped onto her ass, the other on the back of her head, and she let herself be manoeuvred around his garage, only breaking the kiss when the backs of her thighs hit his workbench, rattling the assortment of tools left there.

His lips latched onto her neck and his fingers fumbled with the zipper on her jacket. She helped him unzip and then reached for his jacket too, opening it and tugging the plain white t-shirt she found out of his pants. Her hands slipped under the shirt and her fingers skimmed across his hot skin, her nails scratching lightly across his back; not hard enough to hurt or to leave a mark, but clear enough to make him moan into her neck and press his pelvis against her.

He yanked open her jacket and his lips headed towards her breasts, kissing and nibbling across her collar bone and down to the edge of her tank top. His hand rested on her exposed midriff, fingers lightly brushing in contrast to the harsher pressure of the rest of his body, effectively pinning her in place. She let her head fall back with a deep groan when his tongue darted under the soft cotton to sweep across the swell of her breast and dip into her cleavage.

 

***

 

She tasted wonderful, she smelled absolutely delicious and that sound she’d just made? Jack didn’t ever want to forget that low, guttural groan and the way her fingers had just dug into the muscles of his back. He could feel the heat radiating off her, the build up of it between their worked up bodies and the very slight sheen of sweat beginning to form on her flesh.

He unzipped her pants, tried to slide a hand down the front of them, but found they were just too tight. The thought of that sent a fresh ripple of arousal through him as his mind fixed on just how good her tight cheeks looked encased in leather. He was painfully hard, his pants having no give for this kind of excitement and he partly wanted to get them both in the house and get naked as fast as possible; but the leather under his hands felt too good, the smell of real leather flooding his nostrils was too good. His aroused mind tried to figure out the easiest way to do this without losing that gorgeous expanse of material.

His lips moved back up her neck, stopping when he reached her earlobe. “Turn around,” he whispered and heard her suck in a sharp breath. He leaned back, easing the pressure of his body on hers and groaned loudly when she turned in his arms, bracing her hands on the bench in front of her.

He tugged at her pants, pulling them down just enough to expose her ass and swore loudly when he saw it half-covered in delicate black lace.

“Something wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.

“Not at all,” he replied and squeezed her cheeks between his hands. She wiggled backwards and he chuckled a little, before pulling the lace out of the way. Unzipping his own pants, he tugged them down to mid-thigh and placed his hand in the middle of her back, urging her forward. She bent over, resting her elbows on the wooden bench and his hand slipped between her legs finding her wet and ready. They both moaned when his fingers brushed across her clit and he teased her entrance with just the head of his weeping cock.

“Jack,” she warned. He knew that tone all too well. It was her “knock it off sir, before I shoot you” tone and he smiled, then pressed into her, slipping inside easily with a ragged breath, echoed by her. He moved quickly, his hands grasping her hips and holding her still as he thrust forward into the wet heat, the leather covering their thighs squeaking as it rubbed together.

He ran a hand down her thigh, across her back, revelling in the feel of the tough material as he fucked her, in direct contrast to her soft skin. He was close already, way too close, and he reached between her legs, urging them as far apart as possible until he could get a fingertip to her clit and rub quickly. Her back arched, her fingers dug into the wood of his workbench and she made that sound again, the deep, primal groan as he hit the right spot.

He felt perspiration bead on his forehead; fucking in leather, while insanely erotic, was proving to not be the best idea he’d ever had. The heat was immense, his whole body screaming for air to cool his skin and he could feel that slick sheen on her skin too. He twisted his hips, rubbed harder on her clit and she began to pant, screwing herself back onto him with each thrust and her body began to tremble a little.

“Oh fuck,” she panted, as her muscles clenched around him, dragging him over the edge with her as she came, her whole body twitching and his head swimming as he tried to stay upright, his knees threatening to buckle at any moment.

As they slowed, he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and saw her rest her head on the bench, her chest heaving for air just as his was.

“That wasn’t quite how I planned this happening,” he said and felt her body vibrate with laughter.

“There was a plan?” she asked. Shifting her hips and he pulled out. She straightened up and leaned against him, his arms immediately wrapping around her middle and his lips pressing a soft kiss into the side of her neck.

“Oh yeah,” he answered.

“Care to share?” she asked, still smiling.

“Well...there was a bed...” he said, “and you know...fewer clothes.”


End file.
